This story has been born from my desire to write something entirely unique and foreign to the fandom of Unordinary, whilst exploringing the possibilities of the setting of the webtoon Unordinary with the magic that is the Fate Franchise. Because of this, this story is an AU with its premise based on the Unordinary world with Fate elements.

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'Brilliant people shine more brightly than ordinary ones. They never regret or agonize over what they've done.' – Archer

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Prologue- Tragic Prelude

Wellston was on fire.

Not the high school, nor the many stores that had the cities name within their brand- that would be too logical, far too understandable.

Far too normal.

Thaumaturgy was not normal, the ability to create swords from Od and explosions from cheap gems was abnormal, but it worked with science- it works with logic. True Magic went beyond simple Thaumaturgy- it didn't work with logic, such a concept was a mere guideline, not the rule. It was like comparing a two-bit magician to a magus, one uses misdirection to entertain whilst the other created something from equivalent exchange, either an object, parts of the body (like bone marrow), or magical energy known as prana.

Now put Thaumaturgy in the place of that very two-bit magician, which was so far below it in power and potential, and put True Magic in the place of the magus. There was no comparison, in a fight against Thaumaturgy and True Magic, it was like comparing who would win in a fight between a pit bull and a kitten that had been staying still in the rain for several hours. That was John's challenge, the obstacle that had turned Wellston to ash with just a wave of the hands- True Magic needed no chant, another difference between the two mysteries. Just creating a sword with his second-rate magic couldn't sever a power that played with reality.

He was outmatched and outgunned by both the authorities who carved control and the woman who now possessed godlike abilities. All that she had done was kill six other magus and their servants, having won the holy grail war in around three days and wished to visit the Root(1) and gain true magic. Such a magus- no, that term no longer fit such a powerful being, such a magician(2) floated just five metres away. Flying with Thaumaturgy, whilst possible could kill just about magi that tried, but with True Magic, it was like swapping money in exchange for an apple.

It was that simple.

Thaumaturgy had many rules, which had to be followed for the required spell to be achieved, such as what was possible and equivalent exchanged, but even second-rate magic had its uses. John's body had been burnt during the first onslaught of True Magic, which had killed just about everyone in Wellston and rendered the city as a literal hell. With a shaky grasp, he crushed a clouded gem that was about as cheap as a necklace that could be brought at a farmers' market. Within seconds, John's second-degree burns were healed- Jewel Magecraft was time-consuming to prepare but the effect were worth it. The effect of it had saved his life.

John may have a healed body and his fairly high-quality magic circuits, but even John, a first-rate magus, couldn't confront a god on even terms. He would most definitely be able to before she attained the Grail and thus the Root and True Magic along with it, but now? Impossible. Thaumaturgy cannot face the impossible- it could not face True Magic.

She had succeeded, she had won.

That left a sour taste in John's mouth, and the fury within his heart could not accept such a fact and blue lines of magic circuits glowed upon his skin. He moved, Od enhancing his muscles and bone, making him much more durable than the squishy human of blood and flesh that he was and his mouth opened, a familiar incantation left his mouth. His left arm began to crackle with blue energy, like lightning- that was Od, the magical energy within a living.

"I desire a blade that never dulls. A blade that never fragments. A blade that cuts and wounds my enemy's soul. A blade created from the conscious and returned to antiquity. Projection!"

Unlike True Magic, Thaumaturgy required a chant, which differed from person to person- no incantation was the same. With John's first-rate skills with Thaumaturgy, he could create a sword like the legendary Excalibur or maybe the lesser-known Clarent, but he was weak- low on Od, even now he was depleting his life force. In simpler terms, he was dying. Even with his newly healed body, with the amount of Od he was burning, it wouldn't be abnormal for him to kick the bucket.

He knew that, he had read books of magi who exhausted their very life force, exhausted their Od- none survived and his mind told him that he should stop channelling his inner magical energy. John didn't care, he had lost Seraphina, she was gone- never to return, all because he was too slow to reach her. He couldn't be so slow again, and to ease the pain in his heart, he wanted to cleave this magician's head clean off her shoulders. To do that, he needed to give up his life- equivalent exchange.

Ironic, isn't it?

John pondered as a plain, everyday sword formed in his hand- from his prana, but to the unknowing eye, it looked like he had formed it from nothing. Thaumaturgy didn't work like that, everything had a price- it was just the allusion that projection created. The magician didn't flinch, simply raising a hand, energy swirled and orbited around her palm- she used mana, the energy created by the world. Despite the fear that nipped at his heels, John didn't falter, not slow. The difference in power was known by every magus worth their salt. Od was limited, confined in the human body whilst man was unlimited, always being created by the world. John, a first-rate magus, knew that very well- he just no longer cared.

He just wanted this fucking bitch to die.

The blue light was fired, taken the form of that like a laser from the sci-fi movies he watched in a much more peaceful time and zoomed towards him at speeds that most couldn't keep track over, John wasn't 'most', and dodged them with some effort. An explosion was heard from behind him, the remnants of the stores and houses that had been totalled by the fire had been turned to dust by the power of True Magic. The blue lines, which should have dissipated back into the atmosphere if it had been anything less reality-breaking, had split apart.

Impossible, most magus would shout? That's how True Magic works, it wasn't comparable to what he could do himself.

But even the strongest ability had a weakness and every spell's weakness was the magus (or magician) that cast them. With his Od was almost exhausted, his life force almost depleted John felt more weak than he had ever had before. He was dying, he was leaving the world behind but he couldn't help but smile widely. His target was already in front of his target. The blue beams of magical energy trailed behind him, like a visible snail trail, and the furious look of the magician, of the woman who floated before him snarled.

"How dare you stand before me!"

"Just accept your fate."

John responded coldly as if her death was already written in stone. The blue beams of energy almost reached his back, intent of destroying him before he finished his attack- but he was faster, his body enhanced by Od, he swung his plain sword that had been created through magical means. The steel sliced her throat and half her neck. Of course, it wasn't complete decapitation, she technically still had her head connected to her body, but with her spine cut and her throat slit, she was paralysed and without the ability to make gestures to control the mana around them, she couldn't heal herself. With this style of killing, even someone with the power to bend reality would be slain.

But she wasn't dead yet and the spell hadn't been dispelled, the blue beam of magical energy just because the magician was in a near-death state, for her heart had yet stopped pumping blood. She yet had light within her. But still, even with the bullshit power of True Magic, she wasn't long for the world.

"Burn in hell, fuckin' bitch!"

The blue beams of magical energy, tore through his back, vaporizing his vital organs as soon as they made contact with the flesh. Even his Od enhanced body couldn't withstand an attack with the might of True Magic. John's life ended right there and then, but something strange happened. For True Magic inherent nature was that it could do the impossible and John's memories, which should have entered the Root and feed the constant output of mana that was created by the world disappeared.

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John Doe, the cripple of Wellston High School, woke up on the morning of the first day of his junior year. After rubbing his eyes, he found that his hand had blue streaks in it, after further examination, he discovered that the blue streaks ran throughout his entire being.

"What the fuck!"

He screamed, for John Doe, age sixteen, had memories of a future he had yet to experience and powers he had yet to attain.

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(1) The Root is the archive of all futures, presents, and pasts- the Holy Grail was created for the sole purpose of the winning magus to wish to attain access to the Root and True Magic with it.

(2) Magicians are magi that have attained True Magic